


I'd Own You If I Could

by ConvenientAlias



Category: Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald
Genre: Cheating, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, Jealousy, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 14:57:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7645663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConvenientAlias/pseuds/ConvenientAlias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Jordan gritted her teeth. The trick was to never show Daisy that you cared. Daisy didn’t want you to care—or if she did, she only wanted it in an idle sort of way, the way a queen desired worship. Jordan was not Daisy’s subject, nor did she care to be."</p>
<p>Or, the one where Jordan's sick of having to share Daisy with all these men.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'd Own You If I Could

It had been three whole weeks since Jordan had managed to get Daisy alone. At least, alone for any significant amount of time. They’d had brief moments, but barely a private conversation. Of course, Jordan had been spending a lot of time with Nick (who was a darling), and once or twice she and Nick had ended up over at Gatsby’s house and Daisy had been there. But that was hardly the same.

Daisy, she suspected, hadn’t even intended to be alone with her tonight either. But she’d invited Jordan and Nick over to the Buchanan house for dinner together and Nick hadn’t been able to make it and Tom had disappeared before Jordan even showed up to do God knew what (it was funny because everyone knew what)and so Daisy and Jordan were left alone. Well, alone except for Pammy, who tonight for some reason Daisy permitted to have dinner with them, even though Pammy never ate with the adults.

And so they ate, and chatted lightly about child appropriate subjects. Jordan learned a good deal about what was going on with Pammy lately—drawings and books and going to the park to feed the ducks and eating ice cream. She smiled and asked leading questions in her friendliest voice, a voice Nick probably wouldn’t have believed she had. And Pammy beamed and called her, as usual, Aunt Jordan.

Daisy kept Pammy around for an hour after dinner, with the nurse in just the other room, and played little games with her with a too-bright smile on her golden face. She didn’t tell Jordan to leave—that must have been her limit. And Jordan waited out the hour—that was hers.

“It’s about time for Pammy to go to bed, don’t you think?” she asked.

Daisy laughed, light and tripping but not rich, not real. “Nonsense. It’s not dark yet.”

“It’s past eight. She must be getting tired.”

“I’m not tired,” Pammy said. “I can stay up.” She then yawned, and Jordan gave Daisy a pointed look.

Daisy patted Pammy on the head and then on the back. “Aunt Jordan is right. Mother got carried away because she likes playing with her darling. But it’s time for little girls to go to bed now.” She summoned the nurse, who picked Pammy up easily.

“I’m not tired,” Pammy said again.

Daisy laughed. “My little party girl! Go and get some sleep, precious. Aunt Jordan will come over and play again some other time.”

The nurse hustled the little girl off, and for the first time in weeks, Daisy and Jordan were alone.

“Pammy’s growing very fast,” Jordan said.

“They say you need to cherish the early years,” Daisy said.

“She already seems bigger than last month,” Jordan said. “Different.” She shook her head. “Or am I getting old to think like that?”

“As if you’ll ever grow old.”

Jordan smiled. Daisy could be so sweet and so earnest. Sometimes it seemed like she truly believed the things she said, even the most ridiculous exaggerations and flattery. “I think I will grow old quite soon. Probably I will even have to marry.”

“How dreadful.”

“Pretty athletes have their expiration dates,” Jordan said. She walked across the room to sit beside Daisy on the white sofa, maybe a bit too close to be friendly. “You have to eat them up before they go bad.”

Daisy was still smiling when Jordan kissed her lips. She kissed as gently as if it were their first kiss, even though it was far from that. Nick also probably would have thought her incapable of such tender chastity. He would have been the one to give such a soft kiss to her, and she would have laughed.

Daisy did not laugh. What she did do was try to deepen the kiss, her lips pressing hard against Jordan’s, but Jordan leaned away and the moment ended.

“You are angry with me,” Daisy said softly.

“You have been avoiding me.”

“No,” Daisy said. “Of course not.” She put a hand on Jordan’s shoulder. “You know I have been busy.”

“Busy with Gatsby,” Jordan said.

“As you have been busy with Nick.”

Jordan crossed her arms. “You were the one to shove me at Nick. You wanted someone to make sure your cousin saw the town. Well, I’ve been showing it to him. Nothing more.” Kissing, after all, was nothing for a woman like Jordan or Daisy.

“Well, I’m not jealous,” Daisy said, lifting a single eyebrow.

Which of course implied that Jordan was jealous.

Which of course was true.

“I would have made time for you,” Jordan said. “You know I would have made time for you.”

“Of course I know. Tell me, did you miss me so much?”

It was meant to be a joke. Jordan gritted her teeth. It wouldn’t do to say yes, not to Daisy. The trick was to never show Daisy that you cared. Daisy didn’t want you to care—or if she did, she only wanted it in an idle sort of way, the way a queen desired worship. Jordan was not Daisy’s subject, nor did she care to be.

“Does Tom know that you are constantly with Gatsby?” she asked.

That brought Daisy up short. Of course, she always preferred to pretend Tom didn’t exist, at least when Jordan was around. No doubt she did the same around Gatsby. Crossing her legs, she said, “Tom is a fool, as you well know.”

Of course he was. “No chance of a disturbance in paradise, then?”

“Not from Tom.”

“I should congratulate you on such a successful affair.”

“I wish you could hear yourself,” Daisy said. “You sound just like a man.” She smiled, and this time her smile was all acid with nothing of sweetness about it. “You think you own me, don’t you?”

“No.”

“Don’t you?”

“No.” No one would ever really own Daisy, Jordan least of all.

The smile slipped from Daisy’s lips. “Then you are wrong.”

Jordan lifted an eyebrow.

“Men are different,” Daisy said. “You know that, right? I stick with Tom because he is my husband. I love Gatsby because he is a dream, and because he loves me so very much.” For a moment her gaze was distant, but it refocused on Jordan with the same passion that had first captured Jordan all those years ago, the night they first kissed and Daisy taught her about girls’ love. “You are my woman, Jordan.” She leaned closer. “My only woman. My lover.”

Jordan couldn’t quite bring herself to lean back. She refused to lean forward, either, to make the first move in this game, to show Daisy how much she wanted those words to mean something.

And then Daisy’s hands were on the shoulders of her dress, palms resting a bit below the collarbone. Her fingers gripped down, holding Jordan in place as Daisy shifted over onto Jordan’s lap, straddling her thighs. Then they released her. One hand came up to stroke Jordan’s cheek, then to cup her chin.

“Are you truly angry, darling?”

Jordan shivered. Sometimes she forgot the power in Daisy’s voice. But Daisy always reminded her.

Daisy smiled. “You must not be angry with me.”

Her first kiss landed on Jordan’s cheek. Even there, though, it was not like their kiss from earlier. Daisy’s kisses were never light or chaste, not on Jordan. And when she moved down to Jordan’s mouth, Jordan drowned.

Jordan didn’t like when men kissed her too hard, too passionately, when they moved too fast, when their hands were too firm, when they acted as master rather than partner, demanding, fierce. She liked to set the pace, liked to linger. Some even called her a tease.

She could never be a tease with Daisy. She could never control the pace. And, with Daisy’s mouth sucking her neck, with Daisy’s hands unbuttoning the back of her dress, she couldn’t remember why she had been angry, why she didn’t want Daisy to play mistress in this game, why it wasn’t wise to let Daisy do whatever she wanted. She took what Daisy gave, she gave what Daisy wanted. She was a puppet in Daisy’s hands but that didn’t matter. Daisy had always treated this particular toy well.

When they were done Daisy played with Jordan’s hair, combing her fingers through it. No doubt it was a mess beyond salvaging. Jordan didn’t care. She pressed a last kiss to Daisy’s temple, and Daisy laughed.

“Are we friends again, Jordan?”

“I’ve been a grouch,” Jordan said. She brushed a strand of Daisy’s hair off her face, then let her hand drop. “I suppose I go mad when you’re not around.”

“Ah, and here I hoped Nick would be a calming influence,” Daisy said. “He is rather a doll, isn’t he? Tell me, do you think the two of you are serious?”

Jordan bit her lip.

“You mustn’t hold back on my account, you know,” Daisy said softly. “I don’t care. He’s a man. I’d rather like to see you happy.”

It would have made Jordan happy to hear insincerity in Daisy’s voice.

She didn’t.

“It isn’t serious.”

“Oh?” Daisy said, leaning back.  “Are you sure? I cannot see how you can have failed to charm him. He likes strong women, you know.”

“And strong men as well.”

“Oh!” Daisy said. “Well. I had thought him over that. Is he in love?”

Jordan laughed. She did not see how Daisy could have failed to notice it. “Very.”

“And neglecting you. Poor Jordan,” Daisy said. “Who’s the man?”

“Gatsby.”

This astonished Daisy, and Jordan had to smirk. There was not much that could knock Daisy out of the world she believed in, a neat world that revolved around Daisy herself and followed her orders. Apparently this news had succeeded.

“That’s very unfortunate,” Daisy said, when she had recovered. “I’m not sure whether Gatsby would like a man, but I don’t think he wants anyone but me.” She smiled brilliantly. “It’s terribly romantic.”

Jordan bit her lip. She very carefully did not say she could sympathize.

“Well, I’m sure Nick will get over it,” Daisy said. “No need to give up. I do think you two would be a splendid match.”

“We’ll see,” Jordan said diplomatically. She glanced out the window. “It’s gotten late, and I have a game tomorrow. I’m afraid I should go.”

“Really must you?”

“I really must.”

“Give my love to the golf court, then,” Daisy said.

“Certainly,” Jordan said. “I will see you again soon?”

“If you come to Gatsby’s on Sunday, I’ll be there. You should bring Nick.”

“Certainly.”

As she drove home, she decided she would bring Nick. He would be a nice distraction for Gatsby, and Jordan was sure she could get Daisy alone at some point. She might be Daisy’s only woman but she would be much more satisfied when she’d had Daisy in Gatsby’s own mansion. Gatsby would never know, but Daisy would. And Jordan would.

It would serve him right, after all. It was altogether too careless for a man like that to assume he was Daisy’s only affair, to assume Daisy belonged to him. Jordan didn’t own Daisy, no matter what Daisy said. But she’d be damned if she’d let some idiot in a pink coat own Daisy either.

**Author's Note:**

> So...yeah. I just wrote my first femslash.  
> Tbh I ship nearly everyone in Great Gatsby, but only ever in the most dysfunctional or awkward of ways. With the occasional fluffy exception of Natsby. But Daisy having a healthy relationship? That would be the day.  
> Anyways, since I've never written femslash before I'd particularly appreciate comments or critique. Thanks!


End file.
